


ticklish

by quisinart4



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:37:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quisinart4/pseuds/quisinart4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you think Roy's ticklish?" "I- What?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	ticklish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PuzzledHats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzledHats/gifts).



> Just a little short piece for my good fandom friend **puzzledhats** , an amazing writer herself that you all should check out!
> 
> Reviews always welcome, please & thank you. :)

"Oliver, you're tickling me again," Felicity says, giggling slightly. She drops her phone on the bed and meets his eyes over her shoulder. 

They're curled up in bed, her back to his front, his hands sliding lazily back and forth under the hem of her t-shirt. Well, his t-shirt to be precise, but it smells like him and it keeps her warm so she'd stolen it from him weeks ago.

But the real deal is even better so she turns onto her other side to face him, smiling up at him as his hands shift from her stomach to her back, pulling her in closer so they're a tangle of limbs, not sure where one begins and the other ends. She smiles as she burrows in closer, her nose brushing his as he runs a hand through her hair as if settling her into place, as if reassuring himself that he can touch her all he wants.

She looks up to meet his eyes, a sudden question coming to her.

"Do you think Roy's ticklish?"

Oliver blinks in surprise. He's gotten used to Felicity's surprising segues over the years of knowing her, but that doesn't mean they still don't catch him off guard, especially when he can't connect the dots. Like right now as she mentions Roy while they're tucked in bed early on a slow Saturday.

"I- What?"

"Well, you know, the mirakuru," she explains with a shrug as if that should have been obvious. "Do you think his body's impervious to tickling since it could be considered a sign of weakness. Although evolutionary studies show it can also be a mark of self-defense to protect your vulnerable areas."

"Why are you thinking about Roy?" Oliver questions, his brow furrowed at annoyance towards the kid. It's bad enough he's dating Thea, but to invade Felicity's thoughts too? Dammit.

"I wasn't _thinking_ about Roy, I just _thought_ about Roy," Felicity explains, enunciating the words clearly for him to understand. "But do you think he is? Should we ask Thea?"

" _We_ are not going to ask Thea anything," Oliver retorts, raising an eyebrow pointedly at her so it's very clear he has no desire to know the answer to that question. "And I don't want to know whatever you find out."

She chuckles at that, hands running over his broad chest as she drops a kiss on his tattoo. "Fine. I won't tell him you're ticklish when I ask him."

"I'm not ticklish." He shakes his head, tilting her head up gently to meet his gaze.

Felicity gives him a look of pure confusion. "Yes, you are," she says slowly as if breaking the news to him gently, her tone perplexed as to how this could be a revelation to him. 

Oliver lets out a huff of laughter. After the island, after countless days of training, countless years of fighting for his life, he knows his body to every scar, every stitch, every capability, and every weakness. Ticklish? Hell no.

"Felicity, no, I'm not."

She nods in appeasement, murmuring an apology right before she leans up to kiss him. Her lips are soft and warm, her body inviting as she drapes herself over him. He happily shifts onto his back, pulling her closer, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Her hands trail down his arms, fingertips slide down his chest, then dance at the pointed angle of his hip-

"Felicity," Oliver grabs her hand, her robin's egg blue fingernails a bright spot against their pale skin, "stop."

"Stop what? Tickling you?" She smiles a mischievous smile, her eyes brightening and her lips quirking. He has her one hand held captive so she uses the other to reach for the same spot. Her hand brushes at the waistband of his pajama bottoms in the lightest of gestures but he jumps at the contact, reaching for her again, twisting and turning them so she's all but laying on top of him. 

"Told you so." Felicity grins triumphantly, trying to loosen her hands from his grip. "Let go, I wanna tickle you some more."

"That's not being ticklish."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's-"

"Then let go of my hands."

They stare at each other, neither willing to give in, a clash of stubbornness that can cause all heads to turn their way in the lair when it comes to a war of wills. Finally, Oliver releases her hands. She makes no sudden movements, not moving an inch; then her hands dart back to his lower stomach, fingers aiming for her target, brushing just above the waistband of his pants in the hollow of his hip. He jumps in reaction, a sudden chuckle escaping him before he can muffle the sound.

"Felicity-"

"Told you so!" She laughs as he moves away from her hands, sliding to the edge of the mattress as he shuffles backwards. She squeals and holds out her hand as she exclaims, "Oliver, you're gonna fall!"

But of course he doesn't. His reflexes jump in, those lightning moves that have been engrained in him to know every detail of his environment. He grabs her hand, and lunges forward to successfully roll them over; one roll, then two, then he has her trapped in place under him as she shakes her head and mutters something about his "ninja moves". She wriggles in place to adjust their legs so she's more comfortable, and he nearly groans at the contact, their chests brushing, hips aligning as if they have a mind of their own. 

She reaches out to wrap her arms around his neck, fingers brushing through his short hair as she pulls him in for a kiss. It's soft and gentle, and Oliver sighs with appreciation when she breaks for air, his head dropping to the curve of her neck. She smells like the vanilla body wash she uses (that he uses in the mornings too), and when he drops a kiss on her shoulder, he tastes the strawberry lotion she uses on her skin before bed. He feels her hand traveling down his chest again, heading for the ticklish target, and he grabs it, making her shriek in surprise. He grins as he nibbles at her wrist, not letting go no matter how much she tugs for her freedom. 

"Don't."

"Fine," she says with a shrug. "But I still win."

"I never noticed that before," he says thoughtfully. "No one's ever noticed."

"I noticed." Felicity smiles, arms wrapping tightly around him, hands carressing every inch of him she can reach. Her smile is warm, her voice even warmer, her face lit with such affection that it nearly makes him stutter.

He kisses her again before he does something stupid like tell her he loves her. 


End file.
